Reciprocal
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: Hey can you do a jealous Clara fic? One where maybe a girl flirts with the Doctor and Clara gets flustered and starts flirting with a guy, and they both get mad.


They're across the room, talking just at the punch bowl and Clara frowns because she knows he's supposed to be over there getting information on the company, but he's touching that woman's hand in a delicate way that makes Clara's mouth drop open slightly because she's never seen him do that. Not to anyone. Not even herself. She looks away, but she hears him laugh and when she turns back, he's whispering in the woman's ear, backing away enough for Clara to see the color shifting on the woman's cheeks, as though he'd said something scandalous and Clara crosses her arms at her chest.

Flirting? _Honestly_, Doctor.

Swallowing roughly, she begins to cross the room; to remind him of what they're there to get – knowledge as to why a pharmaceutical company would be in cahoots with a robotics firm and what they both have to do with the latest string of mysterious deaths in the city… on a planet light years away from Earth… in a time decades into the future. They're not there to touch people or utter sweet nothings into someone's ear as though they were there to… Clara snorted in frustration… _get laid_.

The thought amuses her momentarily and it's in that moment that she's cut off by a tall man, the vice president of the pharmaceutical company to the president the Doctor is speaking with. Clara smiles up at him and he offers a drink, a tall glass of red wine she takes with a nod of appreciation.

"Looked like you could use it," he gestured back towards the Doctor and Clara straightened as the man astutely pointed out, "Your date's getting a bit chummy with my associate."

With a nervous laugh, Clara shook her head and told him, "Oh, he's not my _date_," and then she took a long sip of wine, swallowing it with closed eyes because it wasn't what she'd expected at all – sweet and fruity and smooth, and it warmed her throat before landing softly in her empty stomach.

"Well then," the man smiled, "You wouldn't mind if I asked you to dance?"

Clara tilted her head up at him and she took another long sip, nodding slowly to say, "That… that would actually be lovely."

Lifting their wine glasses, he settled them atop a waiter's tray and then took her hand, leading her to a small dance floor where he landed a palm at her waist and began to lead her around the dance floor. "I haven't seen you around," he told her with a narrowing of his eyes and a sly grin and Clara ducked her head shyly.

Across the room, the Doctor listened to the woman in front of him detailing gleefully how in one set of experiments, they were using a special combination of drugs to numb the nerve endings of their human subjects in order to attach cyber particles to enhance certain features, like strength and sight and hearing. The beginnings, he knew, of a sort of cyborg project, but his mind was on the man now twirling Clara on the dance floor as she laughed openly, coming back into his chest to chat with him as though she were on some sort of… _date_.

He glanced sideways at the woman still speaking about the progress they'd been making before asking firmly, "Would you like to dance?"

She smirked, words coming to a halt, and took his hand, yanking him towards the dance floor with a quick, "I thought you'd never ask."

The Doctor yelped as he was turned abruptly and the woman collided with his chest, hands grasping his and forcing them onto her waist and he began to move slowly, eyes searching out Clara's laugh and he caught her whispering in the man's ear as that man's hands dropped themselves onto the small of her back, pinkies slipping down slightly. With a scowl, he turned back to the woman who laid her head at his chest and he looked skyward before leaning down and resting his head atop hers, eyes closing out of necessity to stop him from glancing in his companion's direction.

Clara watched him and she frowned, shifting away from the man in front of him as he told her they only took volunteers for the nanobot project, and their families were paid handsomely for their troubles. And mostly, he admitted, they were successful – the failures were few and far between. She smiled up at him, imagining he wasn't aware they'd come across the bodies.

"I'm sorry," she told him weakly, voice cracking, "I have to get some air."

She needed to not see the Doctor's hands absently circling the woman in front of him as he turned his cheek to her head and then shifted lower to whisper in the woman's ear. Clara smiled politely up at the man in front of her and then she turned and made her way out of the ballroom and towards the elevator, stepping inside to take a long breath and lean back against the railing. She could slip up to the fortieth floor and do a little snooping while he was making eyes at that woman, she knew, lifting her hand to glance at the wallet she'd slipped out of the man's pocket, opening it to find his keycard.

When the doors slid open, Clara exited to find the Doctor standing in front of a set of double doors, Sonic coming out of his pocket as she hissed, "How did you get up here?"

He jumped in shock at the sound of her voice; neck rolling as his eyes closed and he gestured at her in frustration and then waved an arm up towards the end of the hall, "I took the stairs."

"You took…" she began, pointing, before shaking her head and moving towards him, bumping him lightly and swiping her card. "You'll set off an alarm with that," she glanced at the Sonic.

The Doctor pouted his lips slightly in annoyance and muttered, "So you're better at breaking and entering than…" then he pointed, "How did you get his keycard?"

She smiled to the door, watching the green light blink before she pushed it open and they stepped inside where she turned her grin on him and tilted her head up at him to tell him, "I was actually doing what I was supposed to."

He pointed, "I didn't tell you to pick his pockets; I specifically said to pick his brain – get the intel we need to uncover what's truly going on here and…" he watched the way she raised an eyebrow and muttered, "And you were doing that as well, weren't you."

"Multi-tasking," she snapped, turning away to walk towards the first set of desks, "Sort of my forte."

Straightening with a tug to his lapels, he approached her and scoffed, "I was multi-tasking as well."

"Ah yes," she nodded, "Did you get her number before or after you asked her about the nano technology?"

"Get her…" he started before flustering and spitting, "What?"

Clara smiled back at him as she ruffled through folders, watching him aim his Sonic at beakers set in clamps on the table across the space from her, "Just so you're aware, the Tardis – _per your own words_ – is not a snog box, so I suspect you'll have to find some other place to take her."

He swung around and pointed at her with one forefinger and his Sonic and shifted his chin up towards her to accuse, "I suppose I should be reminding you that _firstly_, you're right, it's absolutely _not_ a snog box, and _secondly_, I was not trying to get her phone number, and _thirdly_, I wasn't the one with _my hands in someone's trousers_."

Clara's mouth dropped open as she gripped a file that detailed exactly what they were up to and she jutted it in his direction, "I didn't have my hands in his trousers; his wallet was in his pocket whereas _your hands_ were all over that woman."

Stepping towards her, the Doctor told her lowly, "_His hands_ were all over you."

She opened her mouth and then clamped it shut, narrowing her eyes up at him curiously before asking quietly, "Are you jealous?"

Eyes widening, he bent slightly to look her in the eye to hiss, "I _might_ be."

Clara released a small hiccup of a laugh and she saw the corners of his mouth drift up in amusement before he lifted one eyebrow as he watched her touch her tongue to her bottom lip and raise her eyes to meet his. She released a small sigh then and silently told him, "Mutual."

For a moment he didn't know if she was responding to his admission of jealousy, or to the thought floating through his mind that he'd like to kiss her and he felt his hearts thud roughly as he remained, awkwardly, just in front of her. Waiting. Listening to the shallow breaths they were taking in the silent room before she inched forward hesitantly and touched her lips to his delicately.

He released a sigh through his nose as he parted his lips and tilted his head, deepening the kiss as his hands drifted up to her sides, taking hold of her lightly to keep himself from wavering. Her fingers came up to dig into his hair and the Doctor lifted her, settling her atop the table just behind her and moaning when she spread her legs so he could tuck into her, his hands absently finding the zipper of her dress and giving it a small tug and he frowned when she dropped her head, breaking the kiss to settle her forehead to his chin.

His hands fell away and he breathed, "I'm sorry."

Clara laughed and lifted her head to smile up at him, her fingers brushing through his hair before her hands landed on his shoulders and she glanced around, eyeing the doors and he could see her mind working as she began lightly, "We should," she cleared her throat and reached for the file she'd settled at her side, "We should use this, deactivate their nanotech and do our best damage control."

Feeling a surge of heat in his lower abdomen when her knees pressed into his sides, the Doctor nodded and repeated, "Deactivate and damage control," and he couldn't help feel like it might apply to their current situation as he plucked her zipper back up before slipping away, taking the file into his hands to read over the information.

Clara hopped off the table and she moved to his side, tugging at his sleeve and offering him a small smile when he peered down at her, and then she whispered, "We'll _celebrate_ later."

She moved around him to continue rummaging through the files as he smiled and offered the space in front of him a nod and a silly grin of understanding.


End file.
